


Maustadira

by GreyMichaela



Series: Crown Shyness [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: (that's coming up next), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, sort of, tiny bit of angst but not much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6194245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyMichaela/pseuds/GreyMichaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this started growing a plot and I really fell in love with the world that Aaliya's helped me build (she's responsible for most of it, so direct your admiration to <a href="http://wordssometimesfail.tumblr.com">her</a>) and here, have some fluff and kissing before things go, as one commenter succinctly put it, "tits up".</p>
<p>You can also find me on <a href="http://greymichaela.tumblr.com">Tumblr</a> as well, which is where I go when I'm avoiding the real world.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Maustadira

**Author's Note:**

> So this started growing a plot and I really fell in love with the world that Aaliya's helped me build (she's responsible for most of it, so direct your admiration to [her](http://wordssometimesfail.tumblr.com)) and here, have some fluff and kissing before things go, as one commenter succinctly put it, "tits up".
> 
> You can also find me on [Tumblr](http://greymichaela.tumblr.com) as well, which is where I go when I'm avoiding the real world.

Finn can’t stop smiling. His face hurts with it, at the joy that spreads wide across his mouth as he cups Poe’s jaw and slips his tongue into Poe’s mouth. For his part, Poe seems to be just as happy, his eyes closed and his face soft and peaceful, letting Finn explore.

“How long?” Finn finally asks, and Poe draws a deep breath and opens his eyes.

“Since Takodana, I guess,” he murmurs. His hand is still on Finn’s chest, fingers pressing gently into the skin. “I saw you after—wearing my jacket, looking at me, and I just—” He shrugs.

“You just let me think I didn’t have a chance,” Finn says, voice flat, and Poe jerks his head up. Finn meets his eyes, suddenly angry. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, that you didn’t think of me that way, that I should just put this behind me and let it go.”

“It would be… better, if you did,” Poe whispers, hurt in his eyes. “Find someone who matches you.”

Finn lunges upright with an angry growl and pushes Poe back against the pillows, slinging a leg over his hips and straddling him. Poe swallows again but doesn’t move as Finn grips his wrists and bends down, pressing their foreheads together and willing Poe to hear him.

“You don’t get to decide that,” he says, hating the hitch in his voice. “You don’t get to tell me you’re not good enough for me and not even give me the _choice_.”

Poe looks up at him, dark eyes searching Finn’s face, and then he nods. He tugs one hand free and reaches up to cradle Finn’s cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’ll never happen again.”

Finn is abruptly aware of their positions. He’s sitting on Poe’s hips, their bodies pressed together, and Poe’s body heat is warming Finn’s thighs. Poe’s lips are bitten red, wet and slightly parted as he gazes up into Finn’s eyes, nothing but trust all over his face.

Finn bends to kiss him again. “So beautiful,” he murmurs against Poe’s mouth, and feels Poe’s lips curve into a smile. Finn kisses down the line of Poe’s jaw, along his throat and pulling his shirt aside to suck a mark into his collarbone.

Poe makes a noise and Finn looks up, suddenly worried. “Okay?”

Poe manages a nod, his eyes dazed. “Your mouth… is magic. Don’t stop.”

Finn laughs deep in his chest and bends back to his task. Poe brings his hands up, running them over Finn’s shoulders and back, along his chest and down his arms as Finn sets to work sucking a matching mark into Poe’s other collarbone.

Time slows as Finn explores with lips and tongue and Poe squirms beneath him, bitten-off gasps catching in his throat. The air is cool, the sun’s heat blunted by the shade of the tree they’re in, and birds sing in unfamiliar tongues in the branches outside their room.

Finn’s bones feel liquid and heavy, pleasure and need coursing like sluggish molasses through his blood. He _wants_ , wants more, wants to feel everything and immerse himself in Poe, but at the same time he feels no particular drive to hurry things along. This—this is enough, for now. They have time to discover the rest.

After awhile, Finn slides off Poe’s lap and slots himself up against his side. Poe pulls him a little closer and Finn presses his nose to Poe’s shirt.

Poe takes a deep breath and begins to sing, a low, soothing tune that slides over Finn’s skin and settles deep inside his soul. The language is unlike any Finn is familiar with, flowing syllables and lilting vowels, and Finn feels peace stealing through him. He sighs, relaxing in the circle of Poe’s arm, and Poe brushes a kiss against the top of his head.

“Sleep,” he whispers.

 

They’re woken by a knock on the door and Setesha peering inside, beaming from pointed ear to pointed ear. Finn startles upright and Poe stretches luxuriously, yawning. His hair is rumpled, standing on end, and Finn is overwhelmed by the urge to kiss him.

He realizes with a thrill of delight that he doesn’t have to stop himself anymore, and he leans down and presses their mouths together. Poe hums appreciatively, stroking a thumb across Finn’s cheekbone, but when Finn tries to deepen the kiss, he pulls away, huffing a quiet laugh.

“We have company, gorgeous,” he murmurs.

Finn grimaces and sits up, turning to Setesha and giving them an apologetic smile.

“Thou are newly bonded?” they ask.

Poe sits up as well, his shoulder warm and solid against Finn’s. “ _Very_ newly bonded,” he says, smothering another yawn against the back of his hand.

Setesha’s smile widens. “Then we shall celebrate thy bond tonight at the village feast. New love should always be rejoiced in. Will thou follow me?”

Finn scrambled to his feet and pulled Poe up after him. They trail out of the room and across a swaying bridge, gripping the ropes carefully, and then down a set of steps to the forest floor. This deep under the trees, the sun is almost completely blotted out by the canopies that arch overhead, the ground springy with fallen leaves and rotting vegetation under their feet.

Setesha sets a rapid pace among the trees and Poe and Finn hurry to keep pace. Poe reaches behind him and grasps Finn’s hand, fingers curling warm and strong around Finn’s palm, and he gives him a fleeting grin over his shoulder.

Their hike this time is not nearly as long before they emerge into a huge cleared space, the trees carefully trimmed back and the uppermost branches woven together to make an interlacing canopy above them that vaults well above their heads.

Poe’s hand tightens on Finn’s as they stare around them in awe. There are at least fifty Silma in the clearing, talking in quiet murmurs among themselves, but they fall silent as Finn and Poe appear.

One breaks away from the crowd and hurries toward them, holding out a slim hand. It’s Kauva, resplendent in a form-fitting outfit that sparkles with refracted light, their long braids gleaming with freshly applied oil.

“Welcome,” they say, smiling widely.

Finn bows over their hand. “We are honored to be here, friend Kauva,” he says, and Kauva’s face lights up as they clasp their hands in an almost childlike expression of joy.

“Ah, thou recognizes me already, truly thou are keen-eyed! Come, come, sit by the fire and drink with us!” They pull Finn toward the fire in the middle of the clearing and Poe follows behind them, looking a little flummoxed.

They sit down, shoulders brushing, and Poe leans over to address Finn out of the corner of his mouth. “How did you know that was Kauva?” he whispered. “They’re identical!”

Finn shoots him a smile. “It’s the braids. They’re all different in some way, even if it’s just the way they’re tied off at the ends.”

Poe’s eyes widen as he looks around and realizes that Finn’s right—each Silma is wearing their braids in unique ways. “How….”

Finn shrugs. “When you’re a stormtrooper, you learn to notice tiny details to help differentiate. It’s not like we had nameplates on our armor, you know?”

Poe’s face falls and he leans a little closer, bracing Finn with his shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Finn says.

Setesha sits down on Poe’s other side and says something to him, and he turns to give them his attention.

Finn looks around the clearing. They’re being watched, but everyone seems very happy to have them there, bobbing their heads and smiling, occasionally tugging on a braid in what appears to be a formal gesture of acknowledgement.

A hand touches Finn’s sleeve and he looks down as a tiny Silma gasps and ducks out of sight behind a stump. Finn waits, and sure enough, the small one’s head emerges after a minute, limpid black eyes blinking at him. Finn smiles and the child squeaks and disappears again.

“Winning more hearts?” Poe remarks, and Finn turns and wraps an arm around his waist, delighting all over again that he _can_.

“Already won the only one that really matters to me,” he tells him, and his heart hurts a little at the smile that spreads across Poe’s face and he can’t stop himself from dipping his head and taking a kiss.

Poe’s lips are soft and warm and he sighs against Finn’s mouth, going loose and pliant in his encircling arm. Finn decides he could stay like this forever, memorizing the shape and feel of Poe’s lips and tongue, but finally Poe stirs and pulls away with a disappointed sigh.

“Plenty of time for that later,” he says, touching a finger to Finn’s mouth.

Setesha laughs, liquid and melodic, and pats Poe’s knee. “Thou are newly bonded, of course thou are taken with your mate! Tell me, how did thee meet?”

Finn stiffens but Poe stays easy and relaxed in his arm, smiling at Setesha and the others who have gathered around. “He helped me escape from the First Order,” he says, pitching his voice so everyone can hear. “He’s a hero.”

A chorus of awed murmurs go up as everyone turns to regard Finn, who’s pretty sure his face is on fire. He ducks his head and Poe laughs, leaning against him and addressing Kauva.

“He’s also an expert on the First Order. He knows how they think, the kind of artillery and firepower they use, the sort of ships they have at their disposal—he’s going to help look over the plans for the base and tell us any weaknesses it might have, ways we can improve it.”

Kauva bobs their head, smiling. “We look forward to showing thee the plans. How long have thee been bonded?”

Finn keeps his mouth shut, figuring that Poe thinks faster on his feet, and Poe stretches up and plants a kiss on his jaw.

“Just a few days,” he says, turning back to Kauva. “This is sort of our honeymoon.”

Kauva looks puzzled. “What is… honeymoon?”

Finn’s a little fuzzy on the specifics of that himself, but thankfully Poe has everything in hand.

“It’s a human tradition,” he says easily, lacing his fingers through Finn’s. “When people get married—bonded—they sometimes have a little… trip, or time to themselves, time to enjoy each other as newlyweds before getting back to regular life.”

Kauva’s face lights up. “Ah, the _maustadira_!”

Setesha says something rapid in Silman and Kauva nods, trilling syllables back at them and then turning to Poe and Finn.

“In our culture, a newly bonded pair takes part in a _maustadira_ , a sacred time set aside for them and them alone. They have no contact with anyone else during that time—all their comforts are attended to, and their only task is to focus on each other. This is similar to what thou have described, yes?”

Poe nods, rubbing his thumb across Finn’s knuckles.

“Wonderful,” Kauva says, motioning to someone over Finn’s shoulder. “Then we would like to give you a night of _maustadira_ , after the feast. In the morning, we shall examine the plans and the proposed peace treaty. Is this acceptable to you and your mate?”

Poe looks at Finn, who nods, his smile so wide it hurts.

“It’s very acceptable,” Poe says, squeezing Finn’s hand. “And we are very grateful.”

Kauva smiles as a group of Silma approaches, each one carrying a broad leaf with various delicious smelling food on it. The small Silma who touched Finn’s sleeve earlier is at the head of the line, pointed chin tucked to their narrow chest and two empty leaves clutched in tiny fists.

“This is Tashali,” Kauva says. “They are thy—” They blink, confusion flickering rapidly across their face. “What is word? Servant? They are to help thee with any needs thou might have.”

“Assistant?” Poe offers, smiling his breathtaking smile at Tashali, the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners and Finn’s heart stutter every time he sees it.

Tashali takes a deep breath and steps forward, shoving the leaves at Finn, who accepts them and hands one to Poe.

“Put thy food on there,” Kauva directs. “Exercise caution, much is hot.”

And with that, the feast starts. Finn is soon dizzied with the sheer variety of the foods that he’s offered, and after awhile he gives up trying to identify it all. It seems to mostly consist of roots, vegetables, fruits and the occasional small animal, roasted over the flames in the center of the clearing.

Poe’s favorite is a white, starchy root called _yan’kane_ that tastes a little like a cross between a spigage and a tuber, faintly sweet and dissolving on the tongue. He takes a heaping helping and makes obscene noises as he eats it, making Finn swallow hard and drain his drink, something fruity with a subtle kick to it.

He accepts another from Tashali, smiling at them, and Poe sighs happily, leaning against him.

“Let’s live here forever,” he says dreamily, head on Finn’s shoulder. His skin is lit golden in the light from the fire, soft curls falling forward over his high forehead, and Finn aches with his beauty.

“You’d be bored inside a week,” he teases gently.

“Not if I had you,” Poe says, blinking a little owlishly. “Can think… of all kinds of things to do with you.” He grins and leans up for a kiss, tasting of fruit and _yan’kane_ , but ruins the moment by yawning in the middle of it.

Finn starts to laugh. “Maybe we should go to bed,” he suggests.

Poe hums in assent and sways as he stands up. Finn follows suit, rubbing his eyes. The drink—he’s forgotten the name of it now—was more potent than he’d thought, he realizes as the clearing swings around him and finally settles into place. Poe is talking to Kauva, bending forward over their delicate hand and thanking them for the delicious meal.

Kauva beams up at him. “Blessings on thee and thy bondmate,” they say. “We shall meet again on the morrow. Tashali shall show thee back to thy quarters.”

They follow Tashali’s slight form through the trees, stumbling over the occasional exposed root and clinging to each other to stay upright, muffling giggles in each other’s shirts.

Poe is gripping Finn’s hand as they walk and Finn is steadied by his presence, enough that he can look around him. He realizes that now that the sun has gone down, the forest is still lit with a pale glow that seems to be seeping up from underneath their feet, and he pulls away from Poe to bend down and examine the source.

It’s _mushrooms_ , he realizes with a surge of delight—bioluminescent mushrooms that emit an unearthly blue-white glow. He brushes a reverent fingertip across one luminous cap and straightens, grinning at Poe, who smiles back slow and sweet.

Tashali clears their throat, shifting their weight, and Finn and Poe jump, abruptly recalling their surroundings. They sheepishly fall in behind them again and make it to their tree without incident.

By now the majority of the alcohol in Finn’s bloodstream seems to have metabolized, and he feels much clearer headed. He bows in thanks to Tashali, who bobs their head and dashes off into the trees, still without having spoken a word, and Finn follows Poe up into the branches.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering, the smut's gonna happen next. For, y'know, science and stuff.


End file.
